


Good Faith Effort

by swaps55



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Friendship, Gen, chakwas is a tough old bird, vega doubts her at his peril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22742137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swaps55/pseuds/swaps55
Summary: James Vega has faced collectors, thresher maws and reapers. None of those things have prepared him for a poker game with Kaidan Alenko.“Doc, it’s a poker game. I’ve handled reapers CQC. I think I’ll be fine.”Dr. Chakwas leans her shoulder into the doorframe, crossing her arms in a way that reminds him of his sixth grade math teacher. “You’re about to go into the lion’s den, James Vega, and the Major is going to play you for one hell of a sucker.”
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Good Faith Effort

Apparently, the original crew of the _Normandy_ had a thing for poker.

It hadn’t come up until Alenko showed up at the docks not even 24 hours after nearly shooting Shepard in the head, and somehow became part of the crew again. James didn’t really get how that worked, but Joker had just shaken his head and muttered something about third time being the charm.

Whatever history those two carry around, apparently poker is park of the package. As soon as Kaidan is on board, weekly poker games are practically part of the duty roster. That’s fine. James likes poker.

At least until Dr. Chakwas stops him on the crew deck coming out of the head, like she’s been waiting for him.

“Uh.” He shuffles his feet, wipes his hands on his fatigues. For a moment he’s paranoid that maybe he forgot to wash his hands and somehow she knows. What can I do for you, Doc?”

She raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him. Her expression is shrewd. Cautious.

“You’re a good solider, Lt. Vega and after the heroics you pulled on Tuchanka I feel it is only fair that I make a good faith effort to prepare you for what you’re up against tonight.”

“Prepare me? For what?”

Her expression becomes more severe. “A poker game with Kaidan Alenko.”

James relaxes. This is much better than the six nightmare scenarios that just showed up in his mind, all of which included thresher maws. “Doc, it’s a poker game. I’ve handled reapers CQC. I think I’ll be fine.” 

She leans her shoulder into the doorframe, crossing her arms in a way that reminds him of his sixth grade math teacher. “You’re about to go into the lion’s den, James Vega, and the Major is going to play you for one hell of a sucker.”

~

Him? Really? James eyes the biotic Spectre, with the easygoing smile that reminds him of Cortez if he’d lighten up every once in a while. The kind of guy who’d stop to rescue a kitten in a tree, volunteer to build houses for the homeless, give you the shirt off his back…this is the guy Chakwas thought it was so important to warn him about?

Alenko smiles affably as he shuffles a deck of cards. James looks for something hidden in it, something nefarious, but only sees a nice guy shuffling some cards. He’s seen good poker faces before, but this isn’t a poker face. This is just…a face.

“Glad you could make it, Lieutenant.”

Nothing off in the voice either. The doc is out of her mind.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replies. James flicks his gaze to Chakwas, who is pouring herself a shot of brandy at the bar. The corner of her mouth curves in a subtle smile on par with the Mona Lisa.

He takes a seat beside Garrus, who is deep in conversation with Joker.

“How can you have forgotten _all_ of the rules?” Joker asks, throwing his arms in the air.

“I haven’t played since Pressly cleaned me out with all the red cards,” Garrus protests.

Well, at least James has one up on the turian. If he’s a sucker, at least he’s not the only one.

Chakwas sits down across from him, her expression neutral. She takes a chip out of a bowl and nibbles before bringing the shot to her lips and swallowing neatly. James raises an eyebrow. She’s either made of sterner stuff than he’s given her credit for, or tonight’s going to get interesting.

Joker puts a hand to his face. “At least tell me you remember the difference between a spade and a club.” 

Garrus’ mandible flutters. “The spade looks like pawprints, right?”

“Fuck me,” Joker groans, as Alenko doles out poker chips. “I need a drink.”

James is quick to get back to his feet. He’d swear both Alenko and Chakwas are watching him out of the corner of their eyes. “On it. What’s your poison?”

“Something in a glass.”

James finds a bottle of tequila and a pair of shot glasses.

Alenko deals the first hand, flicking the cards out with slick precision. Doesn’t mean anything.

It doesn’t mean anything, right? Chakwas probably just had a bad night some time ago and has blown it out of proportion in her memory. Though, she’s not exactly the type to overreact. James has seen her patch up a very….excited krogan when that Aralak Company soldier, Grunt, everyone called him, had gotten burned to shit by the rachni, without batting an eye. And apparently it hadn’t been the first time she’d done that kind of thing. In fact, he very specifically remembers Garrus chuckling – _chuckling –_ about that time they fought the rachni on Noveria and how Urdnot Wrex, the _clan lord of the fucking krogan_ , had stood in her medbay as naked as the day is long, roaring about great victories and refusing to let her incinerate what was left of his ruined armor. Not only did she manage treat the old bastard, she’d actually convinced him to trash the armor.

Talk about a quad.

He means Chakwas, not the krogan.

She signals to him as he turns around. “Be a dear and get the brandy for me?” she asks.

“Shot or bottle?”

“It’s a bottle kind of night, Lieutenant.”

“Yes ma’am.” Her serves her up, again curious as to why she’s hitting the bottle so hard so early, after all her precautionary tales to keep his wits about him. But he doesn’t wonder long, because it’s time to play.

It won’t be that bad.

~

It’s that bad.

Who the fuck taught Alenko to play poker, and why the hell does anyone on this ship ever let him near a deck of cards? James hasn’t won a single hand and is pretty sure that he’s lost about a week’s pay, assuming they’re still going to get paid considering how fucked supply and communication lines are these days.

He’s got to be counting cards. Somehow the biotic bastard knows exactly what everyone has as soon as the last card is dealt. To make it worse, somehow Garrus is holding his own. He probably uses his visor to cheat.

James pours another shot of tequila. Probably time to back off, but right now the poker game hurts more than the booze. Besides, Chakwas has matched him shot for shot and only seems a little worn around the edges, evidenced only by a strand of silver hair that keeps stubbornly pulling loose from the other well-behaved ones.

“How’re you doing, Vega?” Joker asks, with genuine amusement in his voice that makes James hate him just a little.

“Well, let’s put it this way,” he says with a frustrated sigh. “Since getting on this ship I’ve had a drink with the turian Primarch, shot the shit with Archangel, had coffee with the Shadow Broker, given a ship tour to one of the most decorated STG officers in history, run down a thresher maw with the leader of the krogan people and helped foil a plot to take over the Citadel. I thought getting my ass this thoroughly handed to me at a game of poker was about as unlikely as any of those things. So.”

Alenko smiles that quiet smile that James will never, ever again think is a nice guy smile.

“Was the ship tour because Mordin went to what he thought was his old lab and got really ticked to find Westmoreland there blocking the gate instead?” Joker asks with a snort.

“Yeah,” James says with a shake of his head. The salarian had been something else. You needed about four gallons of coffee just to keep up. About three quarters of what came out of his mouth had gone straight over James’ head.

Garrus sighs a little. “Going to miss that crafty bastard.”

Joker tugs on the brim of his cap. His mouth twists into an odd combination of a grimace and a smile. “I guess we at least get a little peace and quiet back. I could never tell if I was about to get stuck with a twenty minute diatribe on turian gallbladders or find myself in the middle of a musical.”

He leans over to Garrus. “Do turians have gallbladders?”

“No.”

“I miss it,” Dr. Chakwas says softly. “The medbay is too quiet.” Another lock of her hair slips out of place. She tucks it back absently, and for the first time all night James notices that the straight posture of her back is at odds with the slight cave in her shoulders, that her smile is a little too tight and doesn’t touch her eyes.

Joker, of all people, reaches over to give her shoulder a quick rub.

Hm. The bottle of brandy is starting to make a little more sense. For some reason it hadn’t really occurred to him that Dr. Solus’ death would be a tough one for her, even though they’d both been tending to Eve nearly round the clock in the same medbay. He remembers overhearing an impromptu duet once on his way to the mess. She’s a decent soprano, it turns out.

James gets to his feet, grabs the bottle of tequila and the bottle of brandy and tucks what’s left of them in the cabinet on the bar.

“Well, I don’t know about all of you,” he says with what he hopes is a gracious sweep of his hand, “but I think I have lost enough money for one night.”

There are no objections. Alenko sets himself to cleaning up. Garrus mutters something about getting back to the main battery. James doesn’t know much about how well turians hold their liquor, but he sincerely hopes there aren’t going to be any drunk calibrations tonight.

When Chakwas skirts around the table and heads for the door, he offers her a hand. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I did not offer to walk the lady home?” he asks.

A hint of a smile plays at her lips, but now that he’s paying attention there’s something haunted to it that makes his heart twist a little.

“You would be an old fashioned fool,” she replies with her usual poise, “However on this particular night this old woman isn’t going to turn you down.”

It is, of course, a rather short walk to the medbay, and the gesture feels more than a little lacking. But somehow he thinks it still helps. He waits for the doors to swish open and walks her inside, determined to see it through to the end like a fifteen year old on a prom date.

“You sure you need to be here, and not just call it a night?”

“I assure you, Mr. Vega, I won’t be long. One or two things I have yet to tidy up. But I appreciate the concern.”

He takes a deep breath, painfully aware that he might be really, _really_ out of line. “You know, it’s ok to be not ok. If you need to be.”

For a moment her expression freezes, and James strongly considers making a run for it. But then she smiles again. It’s a tired smile, one that’s for him more than it is for her, but at least it doesn’t feel as false as the one in the lounge. 

“I appreciate your concern, Lieutenant. I just need a moment, if you don’t mind.”

James nods. “Sure thing. But you know where to find me if you need me.”

~

When he exits the medbay, Joker is waiting, back against the bulkhead, arms folded over his chest.

“She’s a tough old bird,” he says. “Doesn’t like it when people try to look after her.”

James twitches a little. He hasn’t gotten one damn thing right this evening and it’s starting to irritate him. “I just—”

Joker cuts him off with a wave. “She may not like it, but she needs it. She spends all her time worrying about the rest of us. Doesn’t know how to worry about herself.”

James tilts his head a little, not expecting this level of introspection from the surly pilot. “Sounds like you have her pegged pretty well.”

Joker shrugs and pats his femur. “She’s been my doctor for going on five years now. I was an asshole patient, thankfully figured out I was an asshole patient, and have been trying for the last couple of years to be less of an asshole.”

“That’s…good of you.”

“Anyway,” Joker says, pushing off the wall. “Thanks for looking out for her. You game for more cards next week?”

James flinches. “I don’t know. I may never play poker again.”

Joker rolls his eyes. “You’ve been hazed. You made it. You lived. Play next week.” He nods towards the medbay. “It’ll make her happy.”

“I’ll do my best,” he says. She _had_ made a good faith effort to warn him. If he didn’t go, she might think she’d fallen down on her duty.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll be there next week.”


End file.
